


Dragon Loving

by Innwich



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Historical, Caves, Dragons, Human Sacrifice, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 06:04:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innwich/pseuds/Innwich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waylon was a farmer. He sold vegetables at a town not far from his home. He didn’t deserve to be tied up in a dress and left to die on a hill, where nothing grew and nothing lived.</p><p>It turned out he was wrong about the hills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Loving

“Please. I have a wife and kids,” Waylon said. “You can’t do this.”

His hands were tied behind him. Waylon was feeling faint from the drugs and the mad man had a strong grip on his arm as he dragged him along.

“He’ll like this goat. Keep him happy for another month,” the man said. He gibbered to himself in another voice, “W-w-we have to be q-q-quiet. He’ll h-h-hear us.”

Waylon was no longer at the tavern. The mad man was taking him up the barren hills that lay not far from the town. It was deserted. Waylon had never seen anyone passing through these hills. Most travelers preferred using the road that curled around the hills, even though that road would an extra day to their journey. This was a place where hungry animals lived in caves and scavenged for good.

“I was only selling potatoes at your town,” Waylon said. “You must have mistaken me for somebody else.”

The man tugged Waylon on the arm harshly. “The goat won’t shut up, Pa.”

“Why are you doing this?” Waylon said. He shivered in the plain white dress that he was wearing. His legs were bare and a gust of wind was blowing into his dress. The dress pinched under his armpits and was loose around his chest. Someone had stuffed Waylon into it when he’d been knocked out by the free drink that he’d accepted at the tavern. They’d taken his clothes and boots, the ones that Lisa had sewed from cloths she’d spun at home.

“He’s gonna have fun with you, boy,” the man said.

Lisa had told Waylon to stay away from that town, after Waylon had told her about the man that had stared at him from across the market and muttered about meat for an entire afternoon. But there many more people there than there were in their own village. It wasn’t easy to feed two kids. Waylon couldn’t just raise them on potatoes.

The man suddenly stopped, releasing Waylon from his hold. Waylon lost his balance and tripped, his hands tied tightly behind him. He fell on his arm. A jagged rock scraped his shoulder. Waylon bit back a moan of pain.

Without waiting for Waylon to get up, the man turned on his heels and walked back down the hill. “Time to go, boys. Don’t want to be here when he finds him.”

After the man’s mumbling faded, Waylon struggled onto his feet, and peered down the hill.

There were no roads or treks or signs of people living nearby. There was nothing but hills around him. There was not even a tree where he could hide from the wild animals that prowled for food. Waylon would surely die from the cold or the claws of a beast if he stayed here.

Waylon couldn’t follow the path back to the village where his clothes and money and the mad men were. There was no saying what else they had in mind for him if they saw him coming back to the village. Waylon would just have to try to make it to the roads below the hills, where paths were well-trodden by wheels and hooves.

It would be a long hike, made longer by the approaching night.

“I’m coming home, Lisa,” Waylon said.

He half-slid and half-climbed down the rocky slope. He would have liked to rip off the dress, but he was cold and his hands were tied. The rope was cutting into his wrists and his feet were aching.

A thunderous sound filled the air, though Waylon hadn’t seen any lightning. Something large was blocking out half of the sky. Fearing that something was falling off the hill, Waylon stumbled back, tripped over his dress, and landed on his ass.

Rocks were shaken loose as a massive shadow fell over Waylon.

Waylon widened his eyes. “Oh God. Oh my God.”

A dragon was standing in front of him. It was as tall and dark as the stormy sky. Long black spikes lined the back of its spine, where a pair of leathery wings sprouted. Its face was scarred and its eyes were red with blood. One of its horns curved wickedly from its head, the other had been shorn off at the base.

“Darling,” the dragon said. “Here you are.”

Oh God. It could talk.

Dragons were the things of fairytales. They hoarded priceless treasures in their caves, piles of gold that they guarded jealously, and ate virgins that were sacrificed to them. They weren’t supposed to exist.

“You should have waited at the spot where they left you. I would’ve come for you.”

“The town is making sacrifices to a dragon?” Waylon said. Now that he was thinking about it, the town had been strangely devoid of women.

“You’re not a sacrifice. That word is foul. It sullies our love.”

Waylon wasn’t a remarkable man. The only people that had declared their love for him were Dad and Mom and Lisa and the boys. He was sure he would remember if a dragon had fallen in love with him. Waylon would have laughed if he hadn’t thought those claws could open his throat with a single swipe. “God, I don’t even know you.”

“How rude of me. I haven’t introduced myself,” the dragon said. “I’m Eddie.”

“Don’t eat me, please,” Waylon said. “I’m not a virgin girl. I don’t taste good.”

Eddie laughed. It rumbled out of his belly. Waylon’s ears rang from the sound. “What a foolish idea. I don’t want to eat you.”

“What do you want?”

“Let me love you. I can smell your love for me.” Eddie said. He lowered his head and sniffed at Waylon’s neck. Waylon shuddered. He could feel cold scales nudging at him. They were tougher than a cow’s hide. “It’s so strong. It washes over me like a baptism.”

“Let me go please,” Waylon said faintly.

“I’ll bask in your love,” Eddie said. He stank worse than the fertilizers that were used in the fields. “You’ll complete me. Make me whole again.”

Why was this happening to Waylon?

“Now turn around, I’ll get you out of those restraints,” Eddie said.

Waylon turned around. Eddie could be planning to swallow him once he turned his back on him, but it wasn’t like there was a damn thing that Waylon could do about it. He wished for a swift death if that was what the dragon had in store for him. He didn’t want to die; he wanted to go back to Lisa and the boys.

A large claw tugged at the ropes around his hands. It felt longer than a kitchen knife. Waylon didn’t dare flinch in case he cut himself on it.

“Does it hurt?” Eddie said, sawing at the ropes. “I’m sorry you have to endure this. Men can be so barbaric. But love isn’t easy. It takes effort. It is hard work. You understand, don’t you?”

The ropes finally broke. Waylon rubbed his wrists. He was getting pins and needles in his hands. Eddie was grinning down at him. At least that was what Waylon thought Eddie was doing. It was hard to understand dragon expressions. Rows upon rows of sharp teeth glinted in the last rays of sunlight.

“My cave is not like those straw huts that you humans live in,” Eddie said. “You won’t have to worry about storms or floods. It’ll be your home.”

Waylon thought about his home. He thought about Lisa and the boys and his brick house by the field. His father hadn’t left him a large piece of land, but he made do with what he had. The boys were always so happy whenever he brought home a rabbit from one of the snares he’d set up around his field.

“You won’t ever have to leave these hills again.”

Waylon hiked up his dress and ran.

He must have taken Eddie by surprise, because he’d gotten a good twenty feet away before he heard wings taking to the air.

“You’re just like the others,” Eddie said. “Lie to me, make me think you’re deserving of my love.”

Waylon reached the edge of a cliff. There was a steep slope below him.

Eddie was gaining speed and flying low, ready to snatch him up in his talons.

Waylon dove off the cliff. Eddie crashed into the spot where Waylon had been standing, raining rocks on Waylon as he fell.

Waylon slid down the slope faster than he could see where he was going. His back was burning from the friction. He clawed at loose stones, trying to slow his slide, but he was going too fast. If he didn’t stop soon, he would crash into a boulder and die on impact.

There was an opening, a few feet to his left. Seizing his chance, Waylon threw himself at it, and landed in a cave.

It smelled musty, like it hadn’t seen the light of the day for a long time, but it was empty.

Waylon lay on his back, wheezing through his mouth. He felt dizzy. He had his heart in his throat. His mind hadn’t caught up to the fact that he was on solid ground once more; it still thought he was sliding straight down to hell’s gates. He never wanted to do that again.

A sound like that of a flapping sail rustled above the cave.

“I can see you.”

Waylon scrambled onto his feet. He had to get away from Eddie. He stumbled to the back of the cave, which narrowed into a tunnel. The tunnel led from the cave further into the depths of the hill. Waylon ran.

“Come back, you slut!” Eddie’s roar echoed behind Waylon. “Do you think you can run from me in my caves?”

Of course he had to be in Eddie’s caves.

“Whore!” Eddie yelled.

The tunnel was dark. He stumbled blindly with his arms stretched out in front of him. He ducked into caves, which led to other tunnels and caves. It was a maze, a network of caves, carved into the belly of the hill.

Waylon didn’t know how long he’d been running. It was hard to tell without the sun or the moon. His dress was torn and that his feet were bloody with scratches. The screams of the dragon had faded into the dark ten caves ago.

A light burnt bright ahead of Waylon. He stumbled towards it like a moth to flame.

It was a cave, larger than the any of the caves that Waylon had passed. Torches lined its walls. It was bigger than Waylon’s entire house. It had to be at least thirty feet tall, big enough for a dragon to stand in it. In the middle of cave, a thick pool of something swirled sluggishly.

Something wet dripped onto Waylon’s head. Waylon looked up, and up, and up.

Bodies strung from the roof of the cave. Bloated bodies hung from thick ropes around their necks. Their sexual organs were missing. Some of the bodies had grown too heavy for the ropes and crumbled into broken piles of limbs, which floated in the pool of old blood and bodily fluid.

Waylon gagged on the stink.

The dragon wasn’t taking human sacrifices to eat them. He was taking them so he could string them up and bathe in their rotten smell.

A heavy thump shook the floor of the cave. The bodies swayed like wind chimes in the air. Something had entered the cave from another tunnel.

Blood-red eyes stared at Waylon over the grotesque pool.

“Are you here to steal my hoard?” Eddie said. He was a hulking shape, illuminated by the flickering torches. His horn scraped the feet of the hanging bodies. “Human whores. You’re all gold diggers. You want to cheat me of my treasures.”

“No, that’s not what I want,” Waylon said. He could run back into the tunnels, and Eddie would only have to flap his wings and catch him in his jaws.

Eddie waded into the pool. With mounting horror, Waylon realized the pool was far deeper than it looked. The blood reached the dragon’s shoulders and washed over his back. Eddie’s eyes were glowing in the firelight. “Then let me bathe in your love, darling.”


End file.
